


Lisa

by Fo_rkwitch



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 1950s America, Alternate Universe - No Powers, American Dream - Freeform, F/M, Model Lisa, Songwriter Cisco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 01:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19163461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fo_rkwitch/pseuds/Fo_rkwitch
Summary: This is it. He thought, shimmering tears of joy threatened to fall off his face. This is the beginning of my life.Lisa,Seems I have spent my life wanting you.





	Lisa

There he was, sitting by his grand piano in his tasteless, poor excuse of a studio apartment. Wishing to know how to satisfy his career, and left wishing he could turn back time. Perhaps, he should have chosen a different path and inherited the family money instead of being alone, disgraced and disowned. He had thought that pursuing his dream to produce music would bring him joy like no other in the world, that he’d have the muses on his side. Oh, how naïve he was. The beautiful melodies he once heard faded into mockeries of the Gods, echoing like a broken record, driving him towards the edge of insanity. His faith in the American Dream left in the cold, damp ground and his harmonies now dissonant — all hope is lost.

 

For countless nights, he wrapped himself in solitary, lost in thought wondering what had gone wrong and how he could fill the endless abyss inside him. He wept, for only silence would answer his cry.

 

The gloomy clouds gathered, shadows towering over his apartment, darkness befalls him; but the moon’s curious gaze peeks into his apartment moments later, embracing him into her glamour, enabling him to fall asleep soundly.

 

He was awaken by the blazing sun and the burning ache in his back from falling asleep on his piano the next morning. A sudden blast of motivation struck him, reflective of the glorious weather. He was dressed in a flash, yet with his hand hesitantly placed on the doorknob and a deep breath building within, he was out of the door.

 

He strayed in the lavish streets uptown, passing galleries after galleries and studios after studios to be left feeling out of place, simply plagued by self doubt and pity. Ignoring them, he could feel the Moirai whispering in his ear, hair raising on his skin. He felt the unforgiving wind shoving him into the concrete ground; his head spinning and a jolt of pain splintering through his shoulder. The mobs paid no mind on the poor songwriter, leaving him hurt on the cold ground in the gentle sun and the hymns of chiming birds.

 

“Are you alright, sir?”, an angelic voice breezes from above. He mindlessly raises his head to find the owner of the voice, air being ripped out of his lungs and gasps, now lost in the woman’s unwavering ocean eyes. She was perfect - red pumped lips, rosy cheeks and golden hair as if they were crafted personally by Midas, illuminated under Helios’ light.

 

“I am good, t-thanks”, he stuttered, eyes wandering around anywhere but the woman’s. The woman - the stunning woman - offers her hand, eyebrows raised and stared at him expectantly.

 

“I am sure you are tired of sitting on the ground”, she proclaims as she extends her hand, to which he gives a tight nod and reaches for her grasp, holding on as if she was his lifeline. Her hand was soft and warm, with flawless, porcelain skin. He thought he could hear harmonies and bells in his head, along with an original, smooth rhythm. She was pulling him off the lifeless ground, out of his haunting abyss.

 

 _My muse_. He thinks proudly to himself. _My muse. My light in the dark. She is the embodiment of music - what I have always desired, what I was born for_. He imagines how she would sound, singing his music. Beginning to wonder if he would fall in love with her, he falters, stopping himself from falling into another blackhole.

 

Just before he turns around, rushing back to his apartment with a million dreams spiralling in his head, “ _What is your name?_ ,” he inquires.

 

“ _Lisa_ ,” she replies with a smile that would put goddesses to shame. Content with his answer, he took off.

 

He unlocked his door with shaky hands, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. Strangely, his apartment now looked bright and full of hope, as if it was enchanted by a brilliant spell. He scribbled on every surface he could see, burying each wall with both quavers and enthusiasm. Adrenaline flowed through his blood like electricity and his fingers danced on the keys of his grand piano, filling his neighbourhood with romantic notes.

 

This is it. He thought, shimmering tears of joy threatened to fall off his face. _This is the beginning of my life._

 

_Lisa,_

_Seems I have spent my life wanting you._

 

Cisco hums along his masterpiece, his head in the clouds, with the blue corn moon.

 _Yes_ , he whispers to himself, _I have_ ;

the door clicks open, the same angelic voice he once heard flooded him once again, “Honey I’m home!”,

and finally — all hope is restored.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys!
> 
> I hope you liked it, I know it is a little short but I just thought it’d be cute and finally decided to post this from like, February. After I re-watched Rear Window :)
> 
> It’s my first time writing this pair, so please let me know how you feel with kudos and comments.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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